


It's a Date

by caffeineandjetfuel



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: First Dates, First Kiss, M/M, Martin is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 17:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3658353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeineandjetfuel/pseuds/caffeineandjetfuel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin and Arthur go on their first date on a stopover. Martin didn't realize it was a DATE. Dedicated to Madnina.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Date

Douglas and Martin each threw curious looks at one another when a light rapping came at their shared hotel room door. A silent communication born of years of working and rooming together passed between them in an instant. The first officer raised a brow, the captain quirked a corner of his mouth, and both pilots shrugged before Martin went to answer it.

“Oh, hello Arthur.”

Arthur smiled at him, not an odd thing in itself, but there was a shy quality to it this time.

“Hi, Skip! Er, I mean Martin…” Martin gave him an uncertain smile back, wondering why the steward had corrected himself.

“You’re quite dressed up.” He noted.

Arthur Shappey was by no means a slouch. At work he wore the requisite vest, shirt, and trousers. He just often forgot to iron them out, or ended up with bits of crafts clinging to them from glitter to the remnants of hot glue. The few times Martin had seen him past bedtime he’d sported pajamas with cartoon characters printed on them and Goofy slippers. When they were on stopovers he was often to be seen in wild t-shirts, mostly of his own design. Today his shirt was neatly tucked into pressed trousers, his waistcoat wrinkle-free and not a speck of glitter was to be seen. He even had a tie, which he had clearly struggled with but eventually tamed into a respectable knot around his neck.

“Of course! For dinner!” Arthur exclaimed brightly.

“Oh, right.” Martin had nearly forgotten the baffling moment on the flight deck earlier. Arthur had brought them their coffee and nervously fidgeted for roughly forty minutes until Douglas had left for the loo, at which point the man had blurted ‘would you like to have dinner tonight?’ as though it were a very big deal. “You know, you didn’t have to dress to the nines. I’m just going in uniform.”

“You look good!” Arthur blurted, fidgeting a little. “That is, you _always_ look good. But especially tonight.”

A niggling suspicion began to worm its way into Martin’s conscious mind.

“Er…one moment, I’ll just be a sec.” He closed the door and whirled around, stalking back into the room and hissing at Douglas, “Is this a _date_?!”

“You really are oblivious, aren’t you?” Douglas responded drolly, not even glancing up from his Sudoku book.

“ _Douglas!_ ”

“Martin. Think about it. _Really_ think about it. The boy waited until I’d left the room and then asked you, _just you_ , out to dinner. What did you think that was? A ploy to get rid of me? Arthur is _not_ that cunning.” The first officer rolled his eyes.

Douglas was right. Douglas was _always_ right.

“What do I do?”

Douglas sighed irritably and gave him a frustrated glare.

“Are you interested in him or not? You figure it out and stop asking me for love advice.” He went back to his Sudoku, then added, “Come back when you need the name of a good divorce lawyer.”

Martin sighed and tried to clear his head and think. How did he feel about Arthur? Was he attracted to the man who did sock puppet shows and made surprising rice, who set up blanket forts and ran after ice cream trucks, who never had an unkind word to say to anyone and thought he was, well, _brilliant?_

A light knocking came at the door and Martin swallowed his nerves before opening it. Arthur’s eyes were downcast and his hands clasped and unclasped in front of him. He looked the very picture of dejected.

“You don’t have to go, Skip.” He said far too quietly for Arthur. Martin had never hated being ‘Skip’ instead of ‘Martin’ so much in his life, and suddenly he craved for Arthur to say his name again. The few times he’d ever done so, he said it with such reverence, as though it were special. Martin _felt_ special when he used it…and he had his answer.

Martin smiled and drew himself up to his full height, which was still a few inches shorter than Arthur, and used his best ‘captain’ voice.

“Arthur.”

Arthur looked up, his posture straightening automatically with the authoritative tone.

“I’d love to have dinner with you. Shall we?” Martin held out his arm like they do in the movies, offering the crook of his elbow to the younger man. He’d always wanted to do that but never felt like he was debonair enough to pull it off. Arthur had a way of making you not feel silly doing such things. The steward’s smile went from ear to ear as he hooked his arm through Martin’s, practically vibrating with happiness.

“Have fun!” Douglas called after them in a tone that made it difficult for Martin to tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He decided against gracing his first officer with a response and instead closed the door behind him.

“This way, Martin!” Arthur exclaimed as they left the hotel behind them, surging forward through the crowd of Americans. The captain allowed himself to be dragged along in his wake, making the occasional apology to pedestrians when they bumped shoulders.

Before he knew it the two of them were in a park bustling with activity. Street vendors were set up on either side of the path, the stands filled with artwork and knick knacks. Soft jazz drifted through the air above the din of the crowd, setting a lazy mood as they slowed to a more sedate pace. Somewhere along the way, Arthur had dropped his arm, and Martin glanced fleetingly at the younger man’s empty hand. As though reading his mind, Arthur reached out, taking his hand and clasping their fingers together. The captain’s eyes shot up, meeting the steward’s, who simply smiled knowingly and pulled him lightly onward.

“So…” Martin said after a while of wandering in comfortable silence. “How do we do this?”

He half expected Arthur to ask what he meant by ‘this’, but the younger man seemed to consider it for a moment, a thoughtful look passing over his features.

“Well…we’re doing it already, aren’t we?”

“Yes…yes, I suppose we are.” Martin smiled. “I’m really enjoying this, Arthur.”

“Me too!” Arthur beamed. “You’re just like Doctor Who!”

“I’m what? _How_?”

“Well, I like Doctor Who, and I watch it loads, but I still just want to keep spending time with it and find out what happens next because it’s brilliant!”

Martin smiled, affection welling up inside his chest.

“Come on, let’s get something to eat.” Martin took the lead this time, tethered to Arthur by their joined hands as they wound their way through the flocks of people to the food stalls. Before long they were perched on a low brick wall together, laughing and talking as they watched the activity around them settle into a quiet evening. The sun began to dip low in the sky, the light becoming a golden glow as they shared kebabs and a blooming onion together.

“Uh oh.” Arthur said, chuckling as he looked down at the powdered sugar sprinkled across his front from the funnel cake.

“Here.” Martin reached out and brushed at his chest, helping to dislodge it. He sat back and surveyed the picture Arthur made, a fond smile gracing his face.

Before he could second guess himself, he found himself leaning forward, his head tilting, his lips falling against Arthur’s in a chaste kiss. When he pulled back, Arthur stared at him dazedly, his eyes searching over Martin’s face until they reached his lips and he was moving forward as if magnetized. Their lips clashed again, less sweetly this time, more searching. A hand, Arthur’s hand, was carding through his hair, brushing over his ear, now resting at the base of his neck, drawing him in deeper. Arthur tasted of sugar and tea and home, and a warm feeling grew in his chest.

Far too soon it was over and they parted, breathing in off-beat harmony with one another, and Martin realized that they must have been kissing much longer than he’d thought, and at some point he must have buried both his hands into Arthur’s hair because even in the light of the fairy lights strung through the trees he could see that the younger man looked positively shagged out. The picture he made did something funny to Martin’s insides and he felt his stomach tumble around within him.

“That…was brilliant, Martin.” Arthur breathed on a sigh, resting his forehead against Martin’s shoulder.

“Yes…” Martin replied, still trying to catch his breath, “Yes, it was.”

The captain shifted, slipping his arm around Arthur’s waist, then stood, pulling him up with him.

“We should be getting back, early flight tomorrow.”

“Right-o.” Arthur nodded and they walked back to the hotel at a meandering pace, the only sound on the street a lingering sax that drifted over the night air.

“This was lovely.” Martin said when they found themselves lingering in front of the door to Arthur’s room. “I almost wish it didn’t have to end.”

Arthur smiled and stepped closer, well into Martin’s personal bubble, the space between them a mere inch. Their palms pressed together, Arthur’s thumbs running lightly over the sides of Martin’s hands. The captain’s breath hitched, his heart stuttering out a rhythm in his chest at the intimacy of such an innocent act. Every molecule of his being was focused on the breath shared between them, how close Arthur was, and for a moment he was sure that Arthur was going to lead him those few feet into the bedroom…instead, Arthur pecked a light kiss on his lips and stepped back, letting their hands drop.

“Next time.” Arthur promised, a flirty smile tugging at his lips. Then he winked – _winked_ – and disappeared into his room, leaving Martin to gape after him. _Well_. It was certainly no mystery how he had a string of pony club girls at his door anymore.


End file.
